


Memely Jokes

by ravenreyamidala



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Crack Fic, Gen, Link in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 23:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenreyamidala/pseuds/ravenreyamidala
Summary: Ever wonder what jokes the Golden Trio used? Wonder no more.Based off this post: http://drownedinlight.tumblr.com/post/166655667159/hogwarts-memes





	Memely Jokes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wordsbetweenthelines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/gifts).



> A plot bunny got me, then I left it unfinished, then I finally managed to get to a stopping point! Hope you enjoy laughing at my terrible jokes.

It was Easter Break (“Why do magic people acknowledge Easter? It’s a Muggle holiday” Harry had asked Ron one year. They still didn’t have an answer, but at least the holiday afforded them time and the opportunity to laze around the Room of Requirement in beanbag chairs. Or in Hermione’s case, study in the Room of Requirement.) 

“Where’s that book by Newton Scarmanner?” Hermione asked. The Room provided her with a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander, conveniently by Hermione’s elbow. 

“Newton Scarmanner, Hermione? Really?” Ron said, raising a skeptical eyebrow at Hermione’s back. 

“Ron, your Potions book says ‘Property of Roonil Wazlib’, so you have no room to judge. Besides, the Room knew what I wanted and you did too,” she said primly without turning around to look at Ron. 

“She’s got a point, mate” Harry said, neck lolling around to look at Ron. 

“I didn’t expect this sort of betrayal from you, Harry! I thought we were mates, mate,” Ron said, faux-angry. 

“I am your mate, mate,” Harry said seriously. 

“A mate wouldn’t do this to me, mate,” Ron said, equally seriously. 

“Oi, can you two lower the volume on your mates-romance or whatever it’s bloody called, some of us are trying to study over here,” Hermione called out, straightening her spine from the slouch it had adopted. 

“What do you call a romance that isn’t like..er...you know what I mean,” Ron said, brows scrunched as he searched for the words. 

“Romantic? That’s a friendship, mate,” Harry said, lips twitching in amusement. 

“No, no, friendship can’t capture the depth of our relationship, Harry. We’re like brothers, but not, because I like you better than my brothers,” Ron said passionately. 

“I dunno, mate, you know more about relationships, platonic and romantic, than me,” Harry pointed out. 

“That’s true,” Ron said, clearly still mulling over the word dilemma he was encountering. 

“I GIVE UP!” Hermione yelled suddenly, before her chair turned into a beanbag that moved to where Ron and Harry were sitting. 

They were caught off guard for a minute, before Harry and Ron began fretting over Hermione. 

“Are you feeling alright, dear?” Ron said, sounding so much like Mrs. Weasley in the moment that he could barely hold back the laughter. 

“Yes, do you have a fever? Should we take you to the infirmary?” Harry continued, gesturing towards Hermione’s forehead as if he were about to take her temperature. 

“No, what is wrong with you two?” she said, smacking Harry’s hand away from her head. 

“So that means…” Ron said, trailing off to exchange a look with Harry of shared horror. 

“...you’ve decided to stop studying for the day?” Harry finished, eyebrows so high they were obscured by his bangs. 

“It’s noon, Hermione! We ought to alert the Prophet,” Ron exclaimed. 

“I can see the headlines now: TWO MONTHS TIL EXAMS AND HERMIONE GRANGER TAKES A DAY OFF STUDYING” Harry said, gesticulating wildly with his arms. 

“Oh, stop it you two, I’m not that bad,” Hermione dismissed. 

“Hermione, the first years call all-nighters ‘pulling a Hermione’,” Harry said patiently. 

“Oh come on, all-nighters interfere with the proper neural storage of information and are more detrimental than beneficial; I’d never resort to that,” Hermione protested. 

“Hermione, it’s Easter Break, and we’re in a room that can transform into literally anything you want it to, and you asked for a bloody library, because the Hogwarts library is closed. It’s been a day,” Ron said, notably less patient than Harry was. 

“Look, I don’t comment on the latent homoeroticism of your friendship with Harry, you don’t comment on my obsessive bibliophilic tendencies,” Hermione said. 

Ron mouthed ‘latent homoeroticism’ at Harry from over Hermione’s head. Harry just shrugged.

“I guess we can’t complain, we’d be dead without your obsessive bibliofu--bibliophagic tendencies,” Harry said, aware of his mistake but continuing to move forward. 

Hermione opened her mouth to correct him, before seeming to think better of it, and closed it, before burrowing further into her fuschia beanbag. They sat in silence for a while, before Harry sat up with a jolt. 

“I wonder if the Room can provide us with a telly,” he said excitedly. 

“Harry, electronics don’t work around mag-,” Hermione began, before Harry cut her off. 

“Yes, yes, but this is the Room of Requirement. Couldn’t it come up with like a magic-proof television?” Harry theorized. 

“If it could, it would have shown up the minute you wondered about a telly,” Hermione said. 

Harry pouted. 

“What’s a telly?” Ron asked, scratching his head. 

“It’s a Hufflepuff,” Harry and Hermione said in unison, before looking at each other and laughing. 

“Oi, stop joking, I’m really curious mate,” Ron exclaimed. 

Hermione stopped laughing enough to attempt to answer. 

“So a telly is like--like--like a pensieve, except you see made up stories in it,” Hermione explained between bursts of laughter. 

“What?” Ron said, face still scrunched up in confusion. 

“Like...you can see plays in it, like you could see a memory of a play in a pensieve,” Harry tried, chuckling quietly to himself. 

“Oh, now I know you’re pulling my leg, there’s no way Muggles have something like that and we don’t,” Ron said. 

“Ron, Hogwarts doesn’t even have escalators,” Hermione said. 

“What the bloody hell’s an escalators?” Ron asked.

“It’s like stairs, but instead of climbing, the stairs move up,” Harry said. 

“That’s ingenious, we ought to have one of those to get to Divination,” Ron breathed, hand landing on a textbook. 

“TREWALNEY!” Hermione called out.

Ron looked at where his hand was touching the book and groaned, but dutifully picked it up and opened it. 

“This book predicts that you, Hermione, will-- oh dear,” Ron said, looking closer at the text, “It says that you will--,” 

“Yes?” Hermione dramatically gasped, hand going to her forehead as if she were about to faint. 

“There’s something lurking in your future, something red and dark and bold, it’s-it’s-it’s,” Ron continued.

“Oh, whatever could it be!” Harry said. 

“OUTSTANDINGS ON ALL YOUR EXAMS!” Ron roared, before they all burst into giggles. 

“Ron, you-you-you are supposed to predict doom and gloom,” Hermione scolded, the effect rather ruined by the giggling interspersed in her speech. 

“No doom and gloom in your future, Hermione Jean Granger. It’s all light from here,” Ron said, obviously trying to be teasing, but it coming out seriously. 

Ron and Hermione gazed into each other’s eyes as their giggles died down. Harry contemplated petrification as a means of escaping the conversation as the gazing went on, before the sound of the door jerking open startled them all from their respective trances. 

“Hey guys,” Neville said, not looking up from the book he was reading, “I was wondering if Hermione could help me with Potions--”

“Hermione simply help you?” Ron interjected. 

“Oh Hermione can teach you how to bottle fame--” Harry continued. 

“Brew glory--”

“Stopper death,” Ron and Harry said in unison. 

“Saute excellence,” Harry said.

“Skewer fortune,” Ron finished. 

Neville looked at them in confusion. 

“Are you high?” he asked tentatively. 

“No, I’m Fred,” Harry said as Ron said, “No, I’m George.”

“Even for you two, that’s a bit weird,” Hermione commented nonchalantly, making grabby hands at Neville’s textbook. 

“Okay, so what’s your problem with this potion Neville?” Hermione asked, touching the ground of the room and lifting it, a sedate green beanbag appearing as her hand rose up. Neville gratefully sat down, giving Ron and Harry a bemused look as he did. 

“Well, it wants this ingredient, but they’ve been making my potion explode whenever I add them,” Neville said, shamefaced. 

“What ingredient?” Hermione asked. 

“Feather of a hippogriff,” Neville said. 

“Ah, they’re actually called ‘leggy birbs’,” Ron said cheekily. 

“Shut up Ronald,” Hermione said absently before turning back to Neville and patiently explaining that he needed to add the feathers after he took the potion off the heat. 

“Harry, don’t touch that!” Ron said, suddenly very loud. 

“Why, what’s wrong with it?” Harry said, not moving any closer but also not moving away from the globe he was about to touch. 

“It’s a portkey,” Ron said seriously. 

A beat passed as they all processed this before Harry grabbed the globe and threw it at Ron. 

“Ron! You know that’s still a sensitive subject,” Hermione chided. 

“Yes Ron, I still have trauma,” Harry whispered the last word, hand to head as if he were about to faint. 

“He’s such a sensitive little boy,” Hermione continued, faux-tearily. 

“I have a delicate constitution,” Harry sniffed in agreement. 

“He does, he’s just so frail,” Hermione finished. 

Neville abruptly closed his book, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room. 

“I’m just...going to..ask Seamus for help,” he announced, before hightailing it out of the room. 

“Did you have to Lockhart the poor boy?” Ron asked. 

“I’ll apologize later,” Hermione said, guiltily chewing her lip and looking at the door. 

“Eh, if Neville can handle our beloved headmaster Albus Pensieve Wallace Herbert Richard Sherbet Tango Dumpsterfire insisting year after year that Hogwarts is the safest place on earth despite all evidence to the contrary, he can handle a little bit of friendly Lockharting,” Harry pointing out. 

“There’s also anything Malfoy does, ever,” Ron added in support. 

“And the blast-ended skrewts,” Hermione said, tapping her quill to her chin thoughtfully. 

“The skrewts are total power bottoms,” Ron said blithely. 

Harry and Hermione exchanged a wary glance. 

“Ron, do you...do you know what that means?” Harry asked tentatively. 

“It’s an insult, yeah? I heard Ginny saying it when she and Luna were talking about Malfoy,” Ron said cheerily, not seeing the looks Hermione and Harry were trading. 

“Should I--” Hermione started, before she was cut off by Harry. 

“No, Hermione. There are some things Ron doesn’t need to know,” Harry said, looking off into the distance, haunted by some dark thought. 

“Wait, tell me--,” Ron said. 

“No Ron. Trust me. You don’t want to know,” Harry said firmly. 

“Thanks Potter,” Ron grumbled, settling further into his beanbag.

**Author's Note:**

> look at me. we both know this is terrible. but if you're reading this, that means you read the whole thing. please leave me a comment and kudo. i'm begging you. i have to feed the writing beast before it eats me. happy holidays y'all.


End file.
